


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #23

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [26]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Children, Drabble, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mailroomorder asked you: Crema Prompt: I kind of just want a serious discussion. About kids. About whether they want kids, whether they want to adopt (old or young, girl or boy), whether they want to do a surrogate (and with whose sperm, and do they want an egg from a friend, or a random from a surrogacy center) etc.</p><p>Anonymous asked you: Crema prompt: the first time the subject of having kids came up (aside from the interview in prompt 14)</p><p>So, I don’t really have an author’s note for this one other than to say that some choices aren’t right for some people.  That not everyone wants the same things from life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #23

Kurt doesn’t quite know how they ended up babysitting  _children_  on a Saturday night.  All he knows is that there are now two little girls (well, not so little anymore and he doesn’t know when  _that_  happened) asleep in his and Blaine’s room with Pavarotti curled protectively at the end of the bed.

He remembers Carrie calling him in a panic earlier that morning, when he was somehow still in bed and Blaine was mouthing lazily at his collarbone.  He’d only answered the phone because it was Carrie’s ringtone, and because she called three times in a row.

“It’s a Saturday, you know,” he’d said by way of greeting.  He has so little free time these days, neither of them do, that when he does have a few extra hours without hems or inseams or finicky lapels, he likes to spend them in the comforting circle of Blaine’s strong arms and nowhere else.

“I would never ask something like this of you, you know that.  But I told Charlotte that John and I would babysit her girls tonight, but I just got a frantic message from the art department and there’s a serious fuck-up going on with some margins and I have to get back to the office and I  _know_  you understand my problem here.”

“Carrie,” Kurt had tried to interrupt.  Blaine had mimed throwing the phone into the wall before giggling at the swat Kurt gave to his ass.

“Kurt, I’m begging you here,” she’d said, and Kurt could hear the desperation in her voice.  “I don’t have anyone else I can call on such short notice.  Haven’t I been good to you?  Aren’t I a wonderful boss even though you’re getting ready to leave me for your own selfish purposes?  Won’t you do this one, teensy, tiny little thing for me?”

“It’s fine, Carrie,” Kurt had laughed.  “Really.  You don’t have to beg.  It’s actually a little off-putting and I wish you wouldn’t.  Blaine and I don’t really have any plans tonight.  We can take the girls for a few hours.”

Blaine had cocked an eyebrow curiously, but Kurt just shrugged and Blaine went back to tonguing at the sensitive skin of his throat.

That wasn’t quite true.  They had very serious plans to get take-out (probably Thai), catch up on some TV shows, and then have old-married-couple sex until they fell asleep again.

“They’re great kids,” Carrie continued and the relief was evident in her voice now.

“I know they are.” 

Lily and Rose, Charlotte and Harry’s two daughters, really were lovely children, as far as children went.  Kurt had met them a few times over the years – when Charlotte had come into the Vogue offices to visit Carrie, and he was always impressed with them.  They were quiet, studious, and Lily had an incredible eye for color coordination that at least gave Kurt something to talk to her about when they were left alone in his office for a few minutes.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to spend excessive amounts of time with them.  But Kurt owed Carrie rather a lot, all things considered.

***

Kurt collapses back on the couch with a bone-deep sigh. He’s tired, he has flecks of crayon under his nails, and he’s pretty sure his back gave out on him an hour ago.

“You too, huh?”  Blaine asks.

Kurt rolls his head against the back of the couch and looks over.  Blaine has glue in his hair and glitter dusted across his cheeks and his eyes are barely able to stay open.  His obnoxiously long lashes flutter prettily and Kurt would lean over to kiss him if he had any energy left to move that far.

“We’re getting too old for this, I think.”  Thirty is coming, too fast for Kurt’s taste, but he’d rather be thirty with Blaine than twenty-one again without him.

While the girls were lovely – polite and sweet and exceptionally well-mannered – they were also full to the brim with that limitless, level-11 kind of energy that only children possess.  It took three hours in the Park with Pav, two Disney movies, four rounds of Sorry, and more coloring books than Kurt had seen since he was a little boy before Lily and Rose finally fell asleep.  And even then, Blaine had to play them a couple of lullabies on the piano before their eyes drifted shut. 

It probably helped that his husband’s voice is absurdly beautiful and his lower register is so soothing and calming that Kurt himself was having a hard time not falling asleep where he stood, leaning against the doorjamb and watching his husband get two kids to sleep.  But damn, they’re going to have to plan another karaoke outing with Blaine’s old co-workers, Jeff and Sugar (even though Sugar can’t sing a note and it takes a few drinks to get Blaine loosened up) and of course Cooper will likely find a way to infiltrate even though he’s never actually invited.

“Do you ever think about it?”  Blaine asks suddenly.  His eyes are barely half-open and his whole body is loose and relaxed, curving into the cushions of the couch.  His voice is deep and rumbles from his chest in a way that makes Kurt want to curl into Blaine’s body and never let go. 

“What?”  Kurt thinks about a lot of things: what color scarf he’s going to make for his dad for Christmas; how much milk they have left in the fridge; when they can make it to Boston for another long weekend away.  There’s a little B&B on the outskirts of the city that Kurt adores and he’s sure he can get them the same room as last time, the one where the bedsprings were absolutely silent.

“Kids,” Blaine says, and Kurt frowns in confusion.  He doesn’t generally think about children at all.  “Us having kids,” Blaine clarifies.  “You…at the debut of your collection – in that interview – you mentioned it.”

_Oh._

Of course he’s thought about it.  How could he not?  They’re married.  They have fairly steady incomes.  They have a home that could be adjusted to make room for a crib and then, later, a bed.  They’re two adults in love and in a stable, grounded relationship, and isn’t that what they’re supposed to do next?

But it’s not what he pictures for his and Blaine’s life.  He doesn’t see a crib or a first day of school or an incredibly embarrassing sex talk.  He doesn’t imagine tiny little shoes that only fit for a week and fights about homework assignments and slammed doors during inevitable arguments over ridiculous insignificant things.  He doesn’t see those things at all; he sees Blaine.

“Do you?” Kurt asks.  They’ve never talked about it, it’s never come up before, and he doesn’t want to completely shoot Blaine down in an instant if it’s something he’s considering for their future.  He thinks of how incredibly time consuming their careers are and how he prefers that to diapers and PTA meetings. But he’s willing to discuss it with Blaine, of course he is; he’ll discuss anything.

Blaine just blinks slowly and twitches one shoulder up in a lazy shrug.  “I.  No,” he says, and Kurt lets out a breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding.  “Is that-” Blaine pauses and licks his lips and Kurt can tell how he’s searching for just the right words.  This is huge – this may be the biggest decision of their lives and they’re making it covered in glitter and glue and the remnants of art projects scattered on the coffee table in front of them. 

“Is that awful of me?  But no, I don’t think about it.  I don’t – I don’t want that for us. When I close my eyes, I see us.  Just us.  Well, and Pav.  I close my eyes and I see all the things we’re going to do together.” A sweet, dreaming smile curves Blaine’s mouth and Kurt’s breath hitches.  He is never going to get over this man.  Ever.  “I think about all the places we’ll go and the experiences we’ll have and all the crazy wonderful things we’ll get to see.”

Blaine reaches out and rests his hand, palm up, on Kurt’s knee.  Kurt immediately slides his hand onto Blaine’s and tangles their fingers together.  There is green and purple ink staining Blaine’s skin and Kurt grins at the marks.  Blaine was rather enthusiastic with his coloring earlier.

“It’s you and me, Kurt.  Just us until we’re old and grey and still having geriatric sex.”  Blaine’s eyes are whiskey-warm and unblinking as he gazes at Kurt with absolute certainty.

Kurt snorts, a little disbelieving, and he brings Blaine’s hand to his lips to brush a kiss across the backs of his knuckles.

There are times when it still takes Kurt’s breath away, when it still hits him like a sledgehammer to his gut, at just how  _right_  he and Blaine are for each other.  They’re not the same and they’re not opposites; they just are.  They’re the puzzle pieces lost behind the couch with the slightly frayed edges that fit one another and no one else.

“I love you,” Kurt murmurs and he lifts Blaine’s hand to nuzzle into his palm.  Blaine just smiles and brushes his thumb along the line of his cheekbone.

_You are the love my life and I will never be the same because of you._

“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you,” Blaine whispers and Kurt can’t breathe for the look in Blaine’s eyes or the truth resonating from the depths of his soul.

They’ve said it to each other a thousand times over.  They stood in front of their friends and family and recited vows pulled from the very marrow of their bones.  But every time, every single time, it’s the beat of Kurt’s heart that matches the very rhythm of Blaine’s.

“When the girls leave,” Kurt says finally.  “We’re taking that bed back.”

Blaine laughs, low and fond, and leans in to capture Kurt’s mouth in a sweet, sleepy kiss.  He tastes of espresso and cinnamon and the next thousand years. 

“Yes, dear.”


End file.
